


A Tunnel Painted on a Brick Wall

by neonsign



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6558286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonsign/pseuds/neonsign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s trained himself to recognize these things as soon as a single sign shows up and klaxons have been going off in his head since they all started acting a little weird about Kanji meeting up with that other boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

One day, no day special in the grand scheme of things, but one day Souji wakes up early and Yosuke is there. It takes a moment for him to gather his thoughts and remember that Yosuke slept over because of a sudden downpour. And he’s still sleeping. Hair that’s usually so carefully maintained falls over his eyes and the way his cheek rests on his arm kind of smooshes his mouth to the side. His snores are practically reverberating around the small room.

Souji reaches over and covers his mouth, plugs his nose. It takes a second but his brain eventually registers the fact he can’t breathe and he jerks awake with a loud snort. Then he’s trying to feign irritation but it’s ruined by the way he’s laughing, beating Souji with a pillow too lightly to hurt.

It’s one of their first good memories together. It’s small, but that’s how these things start.

Another day, a little more significant in that it’s the day they rescue their second victim, Yosuke’s standing in the middle of a bathhouse as he looks at Souji with a curled upper lip. Asks if he’s uncomfortable too. Souji’s not – not beyond the expected apprehension of looming battle and the fear of not getting to Kanji in time – but he knows why Yosuke is. He’s trained himself to recognize these things as soon as a single sign shows up and klaxons have been going off in his head since they all started acting a little weird about Kanji meeting up with that other boy. Skittish and awkward, trying not to pay too much attention to something that should be nothing. Souji knows because he was the same way when he started figuring some things out about himself, but he also knows that not everyone hateful is closeted. Some people are just bad people.

“Seriously,” Yosuke says, pinching his shirt away from where it sticks to him, “the sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Souji stares at him, thinking, averting his eyes when Yosuke looks back.

At this point, their friendship is still new but they’re in this awkward stage. Things progressed too fast to develop naturally.

Seeing someone’s deepest secrets doesn’t mean you know a thing about them. People are more than that. Souji doesn’t know what his favourite food is or what actress he had a crush on when he was little, all these little things that build up. Those are what mean you know someone (at least that’s the way Souji sees it), and he doesn’t know a fucking thing about this guy. Yosuke knows him even less. It’s not like they have some unbreakable bond. It’s brittle at best, and it might not be enough to weather the storm.

The only proof Souji needs is the school camping trip.

It’s another day, during the first school trip Souji actually has friends to spend one with, and he’s listening to Yosuke ask if it’s safe to share a tent with someone like Kanji. Someone like him. It’s the kind of shit he’s heard all his life: people like him are predators, perverts. And it’s coming from his best friend.

He does what years of experience have taught him to do and keeps his head down. Souji watches the scene unfold and does nothing to stand up for Kanji while some ugly, ugly voice in the back of his head says, “Better him than me.”

Hopefully he’ll apologize one day. 

The bottom line is that Yosuke’s disgusted by people like Souji (not disgusted, he claims; it’s fine, to each his own but  _he’s_  definitely not like that, and there’s a tone in his voice, an aversion in his eyes that says nothing  _but_  disgust). 

Souji can’t honestly say he’s any different. A whole life growing up and hearing how unnatural and dirty it is, seeing how it’s listed as some kind of ‘other’ and nothing but a perverted fetish when he was finally brave enough to look videos up online, and maybe he’s a little more messed up than these new friends of his would like to believe of their precious Leader.

But he still likes girls. He really does. So maybe he’s just confused. Maybe it’s a phase that will pass. One day he’ll look back on these silly fantasies (strong hands pinching his nape and pinning him to the mattress; the idle thoughts of what it might be like to hold those hands as they walk down the street together and talk about their days) and he’ll laugh a little awkwardly, surrounded by his wife and children in a beautiful house. Just like what his parents have always wanted for him. Expected of him.

You grow up, marry a woman, and give your parents grandkids. Then your kids do the same for you. That’s just how it works. Think of the shame it would bring his family otherwise.

But that’s for later. Right now it’s another day and he’s hanging out with his best friend at the movies. Halfway through, Yosuke leans toward him to whisper something in his ear – some stupid comment about how he can see the lead actress’ nipples through her shirt – and when Souji looks over at him, the light shines off the popcorn grease on his lip. Souji wants to lick it off. Yosuke’s all talk and Souji wants to see if he can live up to it. The man in those idle fantasies, now he’s got a name and a face.

These things start small but they don’t stay that way for long.

“Dude, she does this other movie where she actually goes topless for a scene,” Yosuke whispers in his ear. The proximity sends a chill up his spine.

Then Yosuke holds his hands in front of his chest to simulate how big her breasts really are. 

Souji sighs and turns back to the movie.

The thing about fantasy and reality is that so rarely does reality measure up.

Another day, another day, and he’ll keep his secret for another day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for a slur towards the end

Yosuke is one big contradiction.

Yosuke laughs when he’s miserable, complains about Teddie while going out of his way to be kind to him, switches between collected maturity and juvenile perversion in the blink of an eye, and regardless of everything else that comes out of his mouth, always sits too close to Souji.

It’s just casual, Souji knows that much. Platonic. He’s not that much of a recluse that he doesn’t understand there are different nuances in interaction. They’re tricky, but they’re there. A touch on the arm from one friend can be platonic concern just as much as it can imply romantic feelings from another. It’s all up to context and intent. Everything with Yosuke, it’s all platonic.

The confusion comes from the way Souji watches and sees the differences in the ways guys touch each other. Slaps to the shoulders or backs, punches to the arms. Kind of violent and painful because they’re guys and that’s just the way guys are. Softness is for girls.

Sitting on the school roof at lunch, Yosuke rests a casual arm on his shoulder. Knowing it’s only some expression of male friendship, that’s kind of violent and painful too. It hurts – both emotionally and because Souji’s so tense that his back muscles have seized up. Softness is for girls, but Yosuke’s always soft with him.

Souji’s never had to deal with trying to separate platonic actions from romantic ones, because he’s never had a close friend before. Neither has Yosuke, which is probably why he’s overenthusiastic and touchy-feely. He’s excited and that’s good, but it would be nice if he would just move over a bit. Put some space between them. It would be nice if he didn’t get such a kick out of ruffling Souji’s hair and seeing him blush.

“You’re always so easygoing,” Yosuke laughs, “I didn’t think you could get embarrassed.”

“Aw.” Chie clicks her tongue and helps Souji fix his hair. “Leave the poor guy alone.”

By this point, Souji knows him a little better and he knows what Yosuke’s like. Yosuke likes to tease people into a reaction (a lot of teenage boys do, said some talk show he watched once). It’s attention, in a way. Yosuke likes attention. It’s the entertainment his Shadow demanded.

He says things just to get Chie riled up and then pulls the victim card when she retaliates. He makes sure everyone knows how much he suffers at work and with Teddie, fishing for sympathy – which Souji is always full of. But that attention Souji gives him apparently isn’t enough, and when Yosuke got to know him a little better, the easily flustered weirdness under his shell, he discovered it was fun to tease him, too.

Intent changes so much. Yosuke touches him and it’s just friendly, platonic male bonding. Souji’s the one misinterpreting it into something creepy.

Souji often wonders how much culture has to do with it. He’s seen some foreign films where guys hug as casual greetings, always slapping each other on the back. Some kiss each other on both cheeks. They sure as shit don’t do that here. Once, he even saw a platonic greeting with a kiss right on the lips, but it was followed with a gentle and playful slap to the cheek. All over the world, guys are just always hitting each other.

Yosuke eats some of Souji’s food, sharing like they always do, and Souji watches. Yosuke never hits him. He teases Souji, but gently. Softly.

Souji asks him, “Have you ever traveled abroad?”

“What?” Yosuke laughs a little. Souji really likes that sound. “Why?”

Souji asks him, “Do you like foreign films?”

“I guess…? Depends on the movie.”

“I see.”

Yosuke frowns a little. He’s probably thinking Souji’s a little strange; he’s said as much before. They both know each other a little more and Souji keeps letting slip all his oddities, the ones his parents always told him were unappealing. He’s not doing a very good job of hiding himself; Yosuke makes him want to be real.

After all this time, he’s not sure he knows how. He’s not sure if he  _should_. Their group is a little closer now and Yosuke hasn’t said anything as cruel as he did during the camping trip, but there are still little snide comments here and there. Souji can’t get it out of his head. Yosuke is kindhearted but Yosuke is also a contradiction.

Losing the first real friend he’s ever made would ruin him, so Souji will keep quiet and deal with the worst of it. All he can do is emulate and be the most normal teenage boy he can.

It’s hard, though. These different nuances in interaction, logic doesn’t really apply to them. Logic is what Souji’s good at. Logic is what he was raised on. He can remember being little and crying about something stupid, then having his parents tell him that he was being irrational and foolish. Crying did nothing but make unnecessary noise, so he learned to stay quiet until he didn’t have to pretend anymore. The emotions he used to feel so strongly and purely became muddied and ugly, easy to cast aside like broken things always are.

“Hey…” Yosuke’s gaze slides to the right. The hand casually hanging from Souji’s shoulder, he moves it to touch Souji’s ear. He pinches the lobe and rolls it like he’s feeling for something. “Did you used to have your ear pierced? There’s a scar.”

There are lines between platonic and romantic and sexual and Souji just can’t tell the goddamn difference anymore. Yosuke once accused people like him of being predators and perverts and every time his heart starts to race from the slightest touch, he really feels the part.

But does that touch ever feel like heaven.

Logic doesn’t enter into this, either. Something so good, feeling this way about his own gender, other genders, being able to love so many – everything Souji knows tells him it’s wrong, that he’s not supposed to feel like that, but God, he does, and it’s not logical that something so good should be considered repugnant.

Sometimes he thinks it would be easier to not be this way at all, but that’s too close to what his parents stomped out of him, so most of the time he tries not to think about it at all. Though there are moments where he revels in it. He loves boys and girls and it feels like the rebellion he was never allowed to have. Rebellion’s never crossed his mind before, but millions of miles away from his parents, in control for once, he’s starting to think he can.

That the balance of their friendship should depend so much on who Souji loves, as if it’s any of Yosuke’s –  _anyone’s_  – goddamn business… there’s an anger there, too. A prickly sensation nestled between his ribs.

With Yosuke touching his ear, knuckles brushing his neck, Souji’s heart races. There’s a pulsepoint near there; surely Yosuke’s going to feel it. There’s no way he can’t hear it, it’s deafening. Too much of a good thing keeps building until Souji feels restless, like he’s going to explode if he stays still.

He slaps Yosuke’s hand away. The sound echoes over the rooftop with the volume of a gunshot but no one seems to notice. Yukiko and Kanji keep talking. Chie and Rise, too. No one but Yosuke hears Souji mutter, “Don’t touch me.”

Yosuke pulls back and gives Souji that space he’s wanted for so long. Breathing room finally, but his lungs won’t take in air. Time speeds up and slows down all at once and at the center of it is Yosuke, looking hurt. In that suspended moment, Souji can’t think. The anger is still somewhere in the back of his mind, a fear of being discovered, losing his best friend, and those klaxon sirens are starting up again.

That’s when Souji becomes a contradiction, too.

“Seriously,” he laughs in a stranger’s voice, “what are you, a faggot?”

The word feels heavy and wrong on his tongue. Violent and painful emulation. Guys do this kind of thing all the time; he’s heard countless classmates throw the word around like nothing.

And that look of hurt on Yosuke’s face, it’s deserved. Eye for an eye. Anger tells him that after all the times Yosuke’s hurt him, beat him down just like his parents, it’s only fair.

But the anger burns quick and all that’s left is a sick, tepid twisting in his stomach. Those muddied, broken emotions he never knows what to do with. He truly is disgusting. He’s an awful, disgusting person and he should just stick to smiling and doing what he’s told, keeping his head down and never daring to dream of rebellion.

Souji wants to explain, apologize, but he’s frozen.

Then Yosuke laughs. For the first time, he hits Souji: a punch to the arm just hard enough to hurt.

“Of course not, man, jeez.”

The two of them, contradictions that they are, so good at playing pretend – they go back to normal. Souji makes plans with Chie and Yosuke talks to Rise. Yukiko and Kanji reminisce about a girl they used to know, one that moved away. Yosuke doesn’t touch Souji again. The rest of lunch passes without incident.


End file.
